


Waking Dreams

by imogene_lovelace



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Drinking, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-16
Updated: 2007-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29127120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imogene_lovelace/pseuds/imogene_lovelace
Summary: "Either you can accept that you desire to engage in depraved behavior with another man, and a pirate at that, and then you and I can have some bloody fantastic sex, or you can't, in which case you'll spend the rest of your life in frustrated denial.  Up to you, mate."Will has a dilemma.
Relationships: Elizabeth Swann/Will Turner, Jack Sparrow/Will Turner, James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in between the release of _Dead Man's Chest_ and _At World's End_ , so it's only canon-compliant with the first two films. Set after a hypothetical alternate ending to AWE.

"How could you?" cried Will, recoiling from the impact of Elizabeth's words. She had chained Jack and left him to die---used her body to snare him. When Will looked at her now, it was like seeing a different person: no longer his sweet, innocent Elizabeth, no longer the only good thing in this depraved world. She was just like the rest of them. 

"I'm sorry, Will, so, so sorry. But he forgave me, you know how he is, said he would have done the same thing himself"---Will didn't doubt it---"and he even promised not to tell you, not to tell anyone, but I just couldn't stand having this secret from you." She was crying now, tears glistening on her cheekbone, the soft curve of her jaw. 

Will didn't know what to say. It had turned out all right, though, in the end, hadn't it? Davy Jones and Barbossa and his father and all the _Dutchman's_ crew were in the great beyond where they belonged, and Jack, who by all rights probably belonged there as well, was back in living flesh, thumbing his nose at fate once more. So Elizabeth couldn't be guilty of killing him, because he wasn't dead, at least not anymore. But she was guilty of...what? Of betraying the man who had betrayed them all, in one form or another, time and time again, yet somehow managed to do something honorable just when it was least expected of him? 

"I can't have any secrets from the man I love," Elizabeth was saying. And then she was in Will's lap, kissing him, caressing his face, his neck, his chest. He could feel the wetness of her tears against his cheek. "And I love you, Will, let me show you, please, to hell with the wedding, please..." 

Shocked, Will stiffened. This was definitely not his sweet, innocent Elizabeth---but then, she had never really been so sweet and innocent, had she? It had been he who insisted they wait, who calmly removed her hands from his body whenever they wandered too urgently, who maintained that he was a gentleman and would respect her virtue. But whose virtue had he been protecting, really? 

"Elizabeth!" Will turned his head away from her kisses. "We'll be home soon, this will all be over soon, we'll be married. Don't you think we should wait?" 

To his surprise, Elizabeth laughed. "Waiting is overrated, Will. We waited before and look what happened. I almost lost you, you could have died, without ever feeling...this." She slid her hand down, down, between his legs... 

But she was wrong. She was so, so, wrong, and she didn't know it; she didn't know what he'd done---that he _had_ felt that, and more, but not with her. 

**********

It had been on the _Black Pearl_ , when Will and Jack were searching for the boat that held the key that Jack would trade for the compass that Beckett would trade for Elizabeth. During this voyage Will had been perpetually annoyed, at Jack for not just handing over the compass in a lavish show of gratitude and affection, and at himself for being so foolish as to want something from Jack. What made it worse, far worse, was his unsettling suspicion that what he wanted from Jack was more than the mere trinket. 

This gnawing bitterness, this tangle of conflicted emotions that he'd regarded as somewhat unsavory, was bad enough when he was awake, but it was even worse in his dreams. Will slept in a hammock in Jack's cabin---Jack had said, with feigned innocence, that it would be safer than sleeping with the crew. Every night Will was tormented by erotic dreams in which he longed for Jack but Jack remained tantalizingly out of reach, and Will searched for him, always wanting. 

That night, dream Jack had been close to him, touching him, and Will was aching, but then the Commodore was there, gun pointed at Jack, and they had to run...and the next thing he felt was a warm hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently, and a voice in his ear. 

"Wakey, wakey." 

Will opened his eyes to see Jack looking down at him, and he wasn't sure if he was awake or still dreaming. Maybe the dream had just gotten better and he could have what he wanted, although he was still unclear as to what, exactly, that was. 

"I could hear you dreaming, mate. Dangerous beasties?" 

Will blinked and could say nothing, especially not when Jack's hand was inching steadily downwards: away from his shoulder, over bare skin where his shirt had fallen open, over his stomach, so he could feel the fabric sliding against his skin coupled with the warmth of Jack's hand, until it brushed up against something hard. Will gasped. 

"Or maybe the beasties weren't so dangerous after all." It was too dark to see, but Will was almost certain that Jack was smirking. "Very impolite of me to wake you, in such a circumstance. I will have to put myself at your service in order to make it up to you." 

Just as Will was wondering what kind of service Jack was talking about, the hand began to move, stroking him through the fabric of his pants, causing his hips to buck completely of their own accord. God, it felt good, and it also felt...too real, not like a dream. But here in the dark, it was easy to pretend he was still dreaming, because if this were real then he would have to tell Jack to stop it at once. In a dream world he was free to pursue the obscure and lurking desires that had been haunting him; he was free to do anything, to be touched, and to touch. 

That last desire was strong in Will's mind, so in one fluid movement he sat up and swung himself out of the hammock and ended up standing, facing Jack. The fact that his surroundings stayed constant despite this movement, that Jack was still standing in front of him, mere inches away, whispered to him, "not a dream!", but Will ignored it. He reached out a hand, gingerly, and placed it on Jack's neck, his thumb resting on the line of Jack's jaw, feeling the roughness of his beard. Jack stepped towards him until Will could feel the heat of his body, the rum on his breath, and a hard pressure against his thigh. 

Will's first reaction was relief, that it wasn't just he who wanted this strange, unnamed thing they were doing, and then rising excitement. Jack's mouth was so close to his, he could feel breath on his face, and if he tilted his head forward just slightly, their lips would touch. Will hadn't quite realized that as he was thinking this, he was also doing it, until he felt Jack's arms wrap around him and a moist heat flood his mouth. Will couldn't help thinking that kissing Elizabeth had never been like this, all sliding tongues, plundering and relinquishing, opening and closing, licking and biting, feeling that the insistence of Jack's kisses was somehow being transferred to his entire body, that their questing hands and thrusting hips were an extension of their tongues, all one and the same. Will never wanted it to stop and yet he needed more, so he did not protest when Jack stepped back from him just enough to pull Will's shirt over his head and unfasten his pants, letting them drop to the floor, then doing the same with his own clothes. 

When they were both naked Will felt hands tugging gently on his wrists, so he followed, and allowed himself to be pulled down onto Jack's bed, pulled down on top of Jack. The renewed contact of their bodies hit Will like a shock. It was like before only so much more so, skin sliding against skin and oh sweet lord, Jack's hard cock touching his, leaving a trail of wetness as it rubbed against his stomach. Will had to touch it, _had_ to, and Jack's groan of pleasure as Will wrapped his hand around the smooth flesh was inexplicably gratifying. Then Jack's hand was on him as well, and if it had been good before, when Jack had touched him through his pants as he lay on the hammock, it was beyond good now, it felt maddeningly delicious. Will mimicked Jack's rhythm, fast, slow, fast, teasing and stroking, until Jack shuddered underneath him and his hand was filled with sticky fluid. Jack's hand stilled momentarily, and then Will was flipped onto his back, suddenly afraid, but the fear was swamped by his burning _need_ for Jack to touch him again. And then he felt warmth and wetness and suction around his cock and he realized, oh god, Jack was using his _mouth_ , and it felt better than anything he had ever experienced. Will writhed and moaned and it was only moments before the white hot pleasure of his release flooded through him, and Jack didn't stop until Will was completely spent and limp on the bed. 

**********

When Will awoke, sunlight was falling on the dark wood of the walls, and it took him a moment to remember where he was---not at home in his dingy little room in the smithy, no, he was on the _Black Pearl_ , trying to save Elizabeth, sleeping in the captain's cabin---but something was different. There was a firm bed under him, and a warmth against his side, and he could feel the fabric of the sheets against his skin. Reluctantly, he turned his head to the side and saw a mass of dark hair and beads falling on bare skin: Jack Sparrow, sleeping on his stomach, snoring lightly and completely naked. Will wrenched himself away so violently that he fell onto the floor with a thud. Grabbing at his scattered clothes, he held them in his lap to cover himself as Jack lifted his head. Will noticed a stickiness as he opened and closed his right hand, and when he remembered the cause he suddenly felt queasy. 

When he saw Will, Jack flashed him a gold-flecked smile. "Mornin', luv." He rolled onto his side, so Will could see...everything. Christ, the man had no shame. 

"Sleep well?" Jack continued. "I hope I frightened away the beasties from your dreams. Or appeased them, like." He grinned naughtily. 

"How dare you talk to me like that?" Will sputtered. "This is what you were after, all along, luring me into your cabin with that rubbish about the crew." He struggled to dress himself while shielding his privates from Jack's view. "You just wanted the opportunity to force yourself on me!" 

"Force?" Jack spat the word like it tasted bitter. "Oh, no, William. Now listen, I may have, over the years, forced a good many ladies and gentleman to part with their worldly possessions under threat of damage to the integrity of their persons, and I may have, in addition, forced a few souls to depart from their mortal homes in the interest of keeping my own soul firmly embedded in this here flesh,"---here Jack gestured grandly at his own naked body---"but I have never, ever, forced anyone to give up his or her body to me in activities of a carnal nature, savvy? What you did last night, you did of your own free will." 

Will turned and ran from the room, fastening his pants as he pushed open the door. He couldn't reply because he knew Jack was right, and his face burned with shame. He was here to rescue Elizabeth, not engage in disgusting and depraved acts with a filthy pirate. Clearly the strain of being torn from his beloved on his wedding day was driving him mad. 

That night, Will slept in a pile of old sails on the deck. 

The following night, they came upon the _Flying Dutchman_.


	2. Chapter 2

Will sat on the deck in a sulk. _My fiancée just made lascivious advances toward me and I pushed her away and ran. What kind of man does that make me?_ Will had a pretty good idea of what kind of man that made him, and he recoiled from the thought. Elizabeth was probably in there crying, about him, about Jack, about herself, and Will knew he should comfort her, but he couldn't bear the thought of facing her right now. 

"Hey there, mate. You look like you could use some rum." Jack took a generous swig from the bottle he was holding and then offered it to Will. 

Will scowled at him. "Is there ever a time you don't think everyone could use some rum?" 

Jack pondered this for a moment. "No. 'Cept maybe when it's almost gone, and I've got the last bottle. But then it's not that they couldn't use some rum, it's more like I wouldn't be offering due to limited supplies." He waved the bottle at Will. "But right now there's plenty, so drink up, mate." 

Wrinkling his nose in distaste, Will shoved the rum away. "I don't want any." 

Jack sat down beside him. Actually, Jack never just sat---he sprawled, limbs stretched out in a feline grace that implied absolute ownership of whatever surface he elected to grace with his presence. 

"Is that because you share your lady's opinion that rum is 'a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels'?" 

"Something like that. Rum can induce a man to do something he doesn't want to do." 

"Ah, that's where you're wrong, luv. The beauty of rum is that it induces a man to do things he _does_ want to do." 

"All the more reason not to drink it, then." 

Jack chuckled as he took another drink. "That what's troubling you? Perhaps there are things you want to do with your bonnie lass, but either her stalwart morals or your own damnable sense of propriety is preventing you?" 

Will shot Jack a look of pure hatred. 

Ignoring him, Jack continued. "You know, mate, I got to know your Elizabeth a bit while you were visiting with your dear old pa." 

Will wanted to say, _you mean while you sold me into eternal servitude to save your own skin,_ but he didn't. 

"And it seemed to me that she wasn't the sort of girl who held such matters of propriety in high esteem. Pirate to the heart, that one is. Wouldn't go to bed with me, though. Think she was saving herself for you. Anyway, my point is, she probably wants it as much as you. And if you're worried about her filling out her wedding dress a little too snugly, why, there are plenty of ways to satisfy your lady without planting your seed." 

If Will's previous look had been intended to knife Jack through the heart, the one he gave now was meant to carve him in pieces and feed him to the squid. "You don't know anything!" 

"Really, mate? Well, in the spirit of being completely, totally wrong, let me just surmise that maybe, your problem with Elizabeth has less to do with an overabundance of virtue than with a paucity of desire. Hmm? Maybe the thing that you don't yet really do want to do has nothing to do with Elizabeth at all." Jack looked pointedly at Will. "Don't think for a minute that I've forgotten what happened between us, luv. There are some things that not even dying and returning from the grave---pardon, belly of a giant tentacled sea beastie---can make a man forget." 

"I wish I could forget it!" shouted Will. "I wish it had never happened!" 

"Do you, now? Listen, my boy, the only thing that really matters in life is what a man can do and what a man can't do." 

"You said that before." 

"I did?" Jack looked rather put out. 

"Yes. You were making a point about my father." Actually, Jack had been right about Will's father, but Will had no intention of mentioning that. 

"Of course I did. But I'm saying it again now because it's so bloody important. Either you can marry Elizabeth, knowing that you'll never be able to satisfy her and you'll make each other miserable for the rest of your lives, or you can't." Jack paused to let that sink in. "And either you can accept that you desire to engage in depraved behavior with another man, and a pirate at that, and then you and I can have some bloody fantastic sex, or you can't, in which case you'll spend the rest of your life in frustrated denial. Up to you, mate." 

Will reached for the rum. 

**********

"Never?" Jack stared wide-eyed at Will. "Not with Elizabeth, clearly, but no one else either?" 

Will shook his head. He really shouldn't be talking about this with Jack, but the drink curling in his stomach and tickling at his brain was telling him, 'what the hell.' 

"No tavern wenches? No prostitutes?" 

"I said no, Jack." 

"Ah, then you must be one of those who only likes it one way. Played around with your mates, then, did you?" 

Even through a light haze of rum, Will was still enough himself to be scandalized. "No! Of course not!" 

A wily grin spread slowly across Jack's face as he realized the full impact of this statement. "So I was your first, then?" 

Will thought that Jack looked entirely too pleased with himself. He couldn't bring himself to admit it aloud, and then he was distracted by watching Jack's throat as the pirate tipped his head back to swallow. When Jack looked at him again it was with an unsettling intensity. Watching his tongue run quickly across his upper lip to catch an errant drop did something to Will's insides. 

"It's not the same thing," said Will. "We didn't...I mean two men can't...you know." 

Jack's smile was wickedly sensual, and his voice dripped with sin as he said, "Oh, my dear William, you have much to learn." 

Will shuddered at the rush of heat that ran through his body on hearing Jack's words. Jack had been right about the rum. The part of his brain that was clamoring for adherence to virtue was drowning in it, and the part that wanted desperately to learn what Jack had to teach him was beginning to float. 

The memory of what he had done with Jack should not be pleasant. He should not be wanting to do it again. He should not be wanting to touch Jack, and he should most definitely not be wondering what Jack looked like underneath the shirts and sashes and bangles. Christ, what was it Jack had said? Rum was a vile drink and he was becoming a scoundrel. 

Will looked at Jack again. The man's gaze was smoldering. Will knew he should not feel quite so warm as he thought, _He wants to kiss me, and he wants to touch me, and he wants to...to put his..._ Will suddenly remembered why this was such a bad idea. 

He sat up straight as he said, loudly and firmly, "I'm not as innocent as you think! I've heard about what men do to each other, and it's revolting! You think you can get me to agree because I don't know what you're talking about, but I do. I won't let you do that to me." 

Will was expecting Jack to look abashed, to admit that Will had uncovered his dastardly scheme, but instead he just kept smiling. 

"Will, mate, I wouldn't dream of asking you for such a favor just now." 

"You wouldn't?" Will was thoroughly confused. Had he misinterpreted Jack's intentions so completely? 

"Certainly not, luv. Would be most impolite of me, you being so inexperienced and all." He paused, then flashed Will a look that made him feel as though several internal organs had just melted. "I want _you_ to do it to _me_." 

**********

Will stared at his reflection in the empty bottle. It was warped, bent with the curve of the glass, and he felt that it accurately reflected his state of mind. 

He had been convinced for half his life that buggery was a violent, painful affair. He had been told that it was satisfying for one man only, and only then if he were the despicable sort of man who enjoyed rape. But clearly everything he had been told was wrong, because Jack actually _wanted_ it, had asked him for it with an unmistakable hunger in his eyes. Jack had told him that nothing in the world felt better, if you knew how to do it right, as Jack so clearly did. Then Jack had been called away for something about the ship, and Will was left with the rest of the rum and the broken tendrils of his convictions. 

Will's revulsion had been a dam, keeping the raging waters of adolescent lust firmly locked away. All that had been left was his chaste affection for Elizabeth, which, in the absence of anything else, he had mistaken for desire. But now a few words from Jack tore gaping holes in his resolve, and the resulting flood of want left him shaking. 

Will tried to tell himself that it was still disgusting, no matter how much the other man liked it. There were some things that it was simply not appropriate to do. It had to be several different kinds of wrong all at once. But Jack's face hovered before his eyes, and his sultry voice saying, "I want you," rang in his ears. It didn't help that he knew how Jack tasted, what his hands felt like, that watching Jack lick his lips reminded Will of what else he could do with his tongue. 

Maybe thinking about Elizabeth would help. Maybe by being so determined to be a gentleman, he hadn't allowed himself to be a man. Not that he really trusted Jack's opinion about how men should behave, but at this point it seemed a far more pardonable sin. Will closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself doing things with Elizabeth that he had never permitted himself to think about before. It was...uninspiring. 

Dropping his head forward to rest on the cool glass of the bottle, Will thought he would try an experiment. He would think about doing all those things with Jack. If it had no effect on him, then he was normal, if a bit on the asexual side, and he could marry Elizabeth and learn how to please her and everything would be fine. If he was more excited by the thought of carnal relations with a pirate than with his beautiful fiancée, however, then he was hopelessly depraved and might as well admit it. 

Will upended the bottle over his mouth to see if he could get a few more drops out of it. One, two, three, they hit his tongue like tiny embers, painful yet strangely soothing. He tossed the bottle at some empty sacks and enjoyed the hollow _thud_ it made. _I'll pick it up later,_ he thought sullenly. 

_The experiment. Right._ Will stood and attempted to stalk deliberately over to the railing, but the effect of the rum made him waver a bit. _Just like Jack,_ he thought bitterly as he gazed at the horizon. The noises of the crew going about their duties filled his ears: men shouting, sailcloth rustling, hammers banging. He closed his eyes and let it fade into a background din, focusing instead on the image of Jack he conjured in his mind. 

His Jack was shirtless, staring at Will intently through kohl-rimmed eyes as he unfastened his pants to reveal the erection Will had felt in the dark. Imaginary Jack ran his hand over it, caressing it slowly, and Will was not at all certain he'd told him to do that. He thought about how Jack had felt in his hand, how he had felt in Jack's hand. He thought about what Jack had done with his tongue, and wondered what it would be like to drop to his knees before this vision, and take that hard, throbbing cock in his mouth... 

Will snapped his eyes open, breathing heavily and already half-hard. _Jesus._ He leaned over the railing, watching the waves lap against the side of the hull, and tried to collect himself. He had meant for his experiment to proceed in a proper orderly fashion, just like his thoughts of Elizabeth: first some kissing, then removal of clothes and maybe a little touching, then if he wasn't too repulsed, a bit of something else. Clearly his mind had other ideas. There was only one thing to be done about it. 

Will marched unsteadily over to Gibbs and volunteered to scrub the deck.


	3. Chapter 3

The deck was clean, but Will's mind was still dirty. 

He almost wished that Jack would try to seduce him again. Will was sure he wouldn't be able to resist. Every scrub of the brush had seemed to amplify the tension running through his body. Physically he was exhausted, but instead of allowing him to relax, the fatigue only made his restlessness that much more unbearable. 

Jack was deliberately ignoring him. He had made it plain what he wanted, and now he seemed to be waiting for Will to make the first move. Damn him. It was unfair for such a decadent man to show some restraint at exactly the wrong time. 

If Will were able to ignore Jack as well, it would be one thing, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the man. The way he walked was a sin. It made Will want to look at his ass, which he was quite sure had never occurred with any other man in his entire life. It hadn't even occurred with Jack before today. But knowing what he did about what Jack wanted him to do, it was enough to make his ears burn. 

It was also completely unfair that Jack could appear to be covered in clothes and trinkets one moment, and the next moment he could turn, and his shirt would fall open to reveal the bronzed, smooth skin of his chest. It was just enough to make Will want to see more, and it was almost worse than if he'd been waltzing about the deck naked. Will was quite sure that he had never wanted to see a man without his shirt before. 

_Or am I?_ He felt that a small armada of stolen glances and fleeting emotions were tugging at his memory, and that if he were to acknowledge them he would have to admit that he'd been lusting after men for years without knowing it. 

As night fell on the ship, and Will's watch dwindled to a close, a battle was raging in his mind. On one side was the part of him that clung to propriety, the part that insisted there was no way he could do what he wanted to do. The other side ( _The pirate side?_ he wondered) told him that he'd failed the test, and he might as well give in. What was that Jack liked to say? _'Take what you want, give nothing back.'_

When the bell clanged for the changing watch, Will watched Jack relinquish his post at the helm to Gibbs and meander below deck. Presumably, he was going to his cabin. Where he would be alone. Unless Will followed him down there. Maybe Jack would say, _Why, Mister Turner, what are you doing in my cabin?_ , and Will would say, _You asked something of me earlier, and I'm here to give it to you._ Or maybe he wouldn't talk at all, but would kiss Will instead, hot, hungry kisses to show Will how much he wanted him. Or maybe he wouldn't kiss first, but would get right to the point, stripping off his clothes so Will could see the hard evidence of his need... 

_All right! You win!_ Will screamed internally at his own mutinous mind, the proper part of him capitulating to the thoughts that were clearly going to torment him indefinitely unless he did something about them. He made his way to the door of Jack's cabin and knocked before he had the opportunity to change his mind. 

Will could hear the rustling of papers and the scraping of a chair, and then the soft fall of Jack's boots on the floor as he walked to the door. 

"William! To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your company this evening?" 

Will thought he detected just a trace of something in Jack's face \- uncertainty, hope. It increased his confidence that he was not about to make a total fool of himself, that maybe something was at stake here for Jack also. But he was momentarily at a loss for words. Recent fantasies notwithstanding, what did one really say in such a situation? "I'm here to bugger you, per our earlier conversation," hardly seemed appropriate. 

"I was hoping the pleasure of my company would be reason enough," Will said, allowing his voice to linger just long enough on the word 'pleasure' to make Jack's eyes light up as if he'd just wandered into an unguarded treasure room. 

"By all means, do come in," said Jack, stepping back from the door and gesturing broadly in welcome. Will stepped forward and Jack started to close the door behind him, but he stopped suddenly. 

"Will," he said, eyes wild, hands pressed together in supplication. "Please, do us a favor, and just...don't move. Stay right here, don't go anywhere, and I will be _right_ back." He dashed from the room in a flurry of bouncing beads. 

_Leave it to Jack to run off the moment I get the nerve to come to his cabin._ Will wondered if he should leave. Maybe this was a sign he'd made the wrong decision - he couldn't count on Jack to stay in one place for even a moment. But that wouldn't really solve his problem, would it? 

He glanced around the room, noting the cluttered table at which Jack had apparently just been charting their course, the plain wooden chair, the bunk. It looked just barely big enough to fit two, and a bit lumpy - not exactly the opulent canopy bed with silk sheets in Elizabeth's mansion, but this wasn't exactly his wedding night. Will thought briefly of having Jack in _that_ bed, and the corners of his mouth turned upward just slightly. 

Will considered stripping naked and sprawling on the bed to wait for Jack. _Just to see the look on his face when he comes back._ What would that look be? It would be surprised, definitely, and lustful, and perhaps just a little too pleased that he'd brought Will low enough to put on such a display for him. _I won't give him the satisfaction._

Any further musing was curtailed as Jack returned, carrying a bottle in each hand. He held them aloft as he swung the cabin door shut with his foot, looking enormously relieved to see Will still standing in his cabin. One bottle was rum, Will could see that, but the other was smaller and he didn't recognize its contents. 

Seeming to note Will's confused expression, Jack attempted to clarify. "A little lubrication to ease the way. Of the interior and exterior varieties." 

_Lubrication?_ As Jack placed the bottle on the desk Will glanced at the label - cooking oil. It took a moment before the intended purpose of the contents occurred to him, and when he looked up at Jack he saw a very amused expression playing across his features. 

"Figured it out, have you? That there, my boy, is the difference between pain and pleasure." 

Jack, who had sidled up to Will while saying these words, was now close enough to place a hand on his arm and lean in so Will could feel breath on his face. "And you and me tonight, luv, is all about pleasure." 

Will wasn't sure who moved first, but he felt Jack's lips on his, Jack's mouth opening for him, Jack's tongue sliding against his own. He didn't know what to do with his hands, but Jack's were all over him, lingering at the small of his back, sliding inside his shirt, making Will gasp as fingers brushed his nipple. _I had no idea that could feel good._ Will could feel Jack's mouth move into a smile every time he reacted strongly to something Jack did. 

Jack still hadn't touched him _there_ , and Will was beginning to get frustrated. _Maybe he's waiting for me to touch him first._ Experimentally, he ran his hands along Jack's shoulders, and was rewarded as Jack gripped him more tightly. Will tried moving one hand down over Jack's back, liking the feel of the curve at the base of his spine. _So that's why he leaves his hand there._ Will's hand, however, didn't seem to want to stay there \- the swell just below it was too tempting. Jack moaned lightly and kissed him harder. Alarmed at his own actions, Will moved his hand back up to safer territory. 

Pulling back, Jack fingered Will's shirt. "I think," he said, "that it's time to divest ourselves of these encumbrances." He began unfastening the sash and belt keeping his own shirt secure. 

Will made no move, but spent a moment just watching Jack. Sans vest, he struggled to pull his shirt over his head but got his arms tangled. Will lent him a hand, fingers lingering on Jack's bare arms before stepping away. 

Two bullet scars marked the right side of Jack's chest, and Will wondered what had caused them. _How much does it hurt to be shot?_ he mused. _More or less than being whipped?_ And what would Jack think when he saw Will's scars? 

Apart from the bullet wounds, Jack's chest was smooth, tanned, muscled. _He should not be this attractive_ , Will thought as he stared at Jack. Jack seemed to enjoy that Will was enjoying the view. He picked up the bottle of rum on the table and took a swig, then offered it to Will. 

"Lubrication, as it were." 

Thinking that he could use some assistance in lowering his inhibitions, Will took a drink. He could hear Jack's voice in his head: _'Rum makes a man do things he really does want to do.' And, so help me God, I really do want to do this._

Will reached for the bottle again after Jack took it back for another drink, but Jack held it out of his reach. "Better not, luv. Don't want to risk jeopardizing your performance." 

"Then why are you drinking it?" 

"Because it helps me relax. And in the situation in which we are about to find ourselves, it is imperative that the man in _my_ position is very relaxed, while the man in _your_ position is very..." Jack stepped closer to Will. "Very..." Jack ran a finger over the front of Will's breeches. "Hard," Jack whispered in Will's ear. 

_No worries on that score_ , thought Will. He'd been very, very hard for some time now. And so, apparently, had Jack, judging from the state of things as he took his pants off. Will had never seen another man's erection before - _last time it was too dark to see him_ \- and instead of being repelled by it as he'd expected, he found that looking at Jack naked only sent more blood rushing to his own arousal. 

"I appreciate that I'm captivating," said Jack, "but I'm starting to detect an inequity in this situation." 

Will hastily stripped and stood facing Jack, unsure of what to do next. Jack, never one to be caught appearing like he didn't have a plan, flopped backward onto the bunk. "Ow," he said, rubbing his head where he'd banged it against the wall. He raised his eyebrows at Will, as if to say, _Are you coming?_

Kissing Jack on the bed was far more complicated than doing it standing up - Will tried to support himself on one arm so he could touch Jack with the other, but Jack made it difficult by squirming against him in a deliciously distracting way. He pulled Jack's hair twice and elbowed him in the side once, each time sitting up and starting to apologize before Jack pulled him back down impatiently and pressed his mouth against Will's to silence him. None of this managed to dampen his desire, and as the last rearrangement had ended up with Will in between Jack's legs, he started thrusting against Jack. 

"Slow down, there, luv, you're forgetting something." Jack nodded his head toward the bottle of oil on the table. 

_The difference between pain and pleasure._ Will noted Jack's eyes following him as he climbed off Jack and off the bunk to retrieve the bottle, saw the desire on his face as he gazed at Will's erection. _I still can't believe that what I'm about to do to him makes him look at me like that._ And then: _is that how I look when I'm looking at him?_

Jack tore his eyes away from Will long enough to toss a small, misshapen pillow on the floor next to the bunk. "Think it's best if you kneel. Position can be a mite tricky til you get used to it." 

Will tried to contemplate the implications of being used to this, and then decided that wasn't a good idea right now. Right now all he wanted was Jack, and the relief Jack offered from the throbbing ache in his cock. He spread the oil over himself, reveling in how good his hand felt with this new slick coating. Jack was sitting on the edge of the bunk, watching Will stroke himself with a look of pure lust. 

Kneeling on the pillow, Will tried to aim in the right direction but Jack stopped him. "Not just yet. It's... uh... it's been a while. And as bad as I want you now, it'll hurt if I'm not ready, see?" Distracting Will with a deep, hungry kiss, Jack took the oil from him and did something to himself with his hands that made his breathing grow ragged. 

"Now, Will. Just go slow at first." Jack laid back on the bunk, lifting his legs up to rest on Will's shoulders. _This is so many kinds of wrong,_ Will couldn't help thinking. But once he was inside Jack, he found that he didn't care. 

It was hard to make himself move slowly - what Will really wanted was to shove his cock into Jack as far as it would go, but he didn't want to hurt Jack. It also didn't help that Jack was making the most encouraging kind of noises - grunts and moans and the occasional hissed "yes!" The feeling of being surrounded by tightness and heat was like nothing he'd ever experienced, and it made him so light-headed with pleasure it was hard to concentrate on what he was doing. 

Suddenly Jack let out a yelp, and Will stopped moving abruptly. "Sorry! Did I hurt you?" 

"No...oh fuck..." 

"You're all right then?" 

"That was just...really fucking good...don't stop..." 

Jack didn't seem in the least worried about being hurt, so Will let himself go a little and thrust into him. This elicited more yelps from Jack, but as they were accompanied by gasps of "fuck, yes!" Will figured Jack didn't mind. 

_If he keeps making this much noise the entire crew is going to know I'm buggering their captain._

Soon enough, Will was beyond caring about the crew and might even have been making some noise himself as he buried himself inside Jack over and over again. Before he realized what was happening, he felt as if the entire universe were concentrated in his cock, and then he was moaning and shuddering with release. 

"Just stay there a minute," Jack pleaded, and Will saw that Jack was still hard and stroking himself rapidly. _Am I supposed to do something else?_ he wondered, but then Jack's stomach was spattered with his completion. 

"Much obliged." Jack smiled up at him, sated. 

Will pulled himself free ("slowly," as Jack asked), and began collecting his clothes from the floor. Jack, who didn't look inclined to move for a while, just scooted up farther on the bunk. 

"You don't have to go. 'S a bit cozy but you'll fit." 

"Yes, I do." 

"Suit yourself." Jack pulled a blanket over his naked form and appeared to already be asleep when Will snuck out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Will avoided Jack all the next morning. Actually, he avoided everyone, for fear that some evidence of what he had just done would be written on his face. For every crew member he met on deck, Will was convinced that the man had heard Will and Jack, could see the guilt on Will's face, was smirking at him. 

Elizabeth sought him out around midday. Will wasn't sure if she was the last person he wanted to see, or the only person he was willing to talk to. 

"Will, I wanted to say I'm sorry." 

"Sorry for what?" 

"For...for how I behaved yesterday. I should have given you more time to think. I can't imagine what you must be feeling..." 

_No, you can't_ , though Will. 

"...and what you must think of me. And it was wrong of me to...to jump on you like that. I don't know what's wrong with me; I must be abnormal to do a thing like that." 

Will almost said, _No, you're not abnormal. I'm the one who's abnormal._ But the words didn't come. "It's all right," is what he said. "You don't need to apologize for that." 

"So noble of you, as usual," said Elizabeth, sounding almost bitter. "In the stories it's always the man who's after things he shouldn't, and getting into trouble, but you're the one who's had to go after me, and rein me in. Always patient." 

_Hardly_ , thought Will, remembering the way he'd pressed Jack into the mattress. 

"Look, I know you're upset, because of what I told you, and maybe you need some time to think about it. To think about us, In case you're not sure anymore, after all that's happened. But I love you, Will, that hasn't changed." 

"I still love you too." He couldn't not say it, not when she looked so fragile - an illusion, he knew, but he responded to it nonetheless. And it was true - he did love her. He just wasn't sure what that meant anymore. "But I do think I need some time...just to figure things out. All right?" His question was begging her to understand that it wasn't her fault, but how could she? 

"All right." 

Maybe he could make it work with Elizabeth after all. What was his other alternative? Deprive himself of love, of family, because of this twisted lust? He could learn to please her, he was certain. Maybe he could be done with the thing with Jack now - he'd quenched his desire, exorcised his demons, and now he could move on. 

Except that the changing of the watch that evening found Will back at the door to Jack's cabin. Will didn't speak when Jack answered his gentle knock, merely pushed him inside and claimed his mouth, his body, in a fierce embrace. They shed their clothes almost immediately and fell onto the bed. Will's touches were a little less hesitant that they had been the night before, and Jack was ready for him sooner. Will came inside Jack again, but this time he wrapped his own hand around Jack's cock afterward, bringing him off with a final thrust of his hips. 

When they were finished, Will collected his clothes quickly and left. Jack studied him intently as he dressed, but didn't say anything. 

The next day, Will didn't talk to Elizabeth at all. She was respecting his request for 'some time,' but he could see on her face that it hurt her. 

Will didn't even bother telling himself he wouldn't be with Jack that night. Inside Jack's cabin, he hurriedly stripped, but Jack didn't do the same. Instead, he dropped to his knees. The heat and wetness of Jack's mouth, combined with the pressure of Jack's hand around his cock, combined with something truly amazing that Jack was doing with _his tongue_ , felt to Will like the eighth day of creation. 

"Jack, I'm going to..." 

But Jack didn't stop and then it was too late, and Jack was licking the last drops off the end of his cock. He sat back on his heels and smiled up at Will, looking pleased with himself. Will couldn't help but notice the bulge in his breeches. 

"But what about...you know." 

"I very much hope that I've not exhausted you for the evening, Mr. Turner. Young lad like yourself, should be able to have more than one go, right? And mayhaps you'll last a bit longer the second time around?" Jack looked hopeful. 

Will didn't quite know what to make of that statement, but then Jack had him on the bed and was kissing him _everywhere_ , and he began to think that maybe Jack was right about his prospects. But Jack was still fully dressed and that wouldn't do, so Will tugged at Jack's shirt to indicate that he wanted it off. 

Jack looked equal measures surprised and pleased that Will was actually trying to remove his clothes, so he stood up and disrobed slowly and deliberately. Will found himself biting his lip in anticipation as Jack's shirt slithered over his torso, and he even started breathing harder when Jack unfastened his breeches. _That's for me_ , he thought when he saw Jack's erection. Not taking his eyes from Will's, Jack slid a caressing hand over it, and Will felt his own cock spring to attention again as he watched Jack stroke himself. 

A smile crept over Jack's face as he trailed his eyes down to Will's growing erection. "I wasn't wrong, then, was I?" 

Not much later Jack was on his hands and knees on the bed, moaning with pleasure every time Will thrust into him from behind. Jack had been right, it did last longer the second time, and Will got to appreciate just how much Jack was enjoying what he was doing. He got to enjoy the feeling, too - a delightful tension that, instead of reaching a quick peak like before, seemed to keep building until Will didn't think he could stand it. 

Will responded to Jack's begging by reaching a still-slick hand around to fist his cock, and shortly thereafter Jack demonstrated the success of his plan by coming explosively as Will pounded into him. Will wondered if maybe he should stop but he was so close, and Jack didn't protest as Will continued to thrust until reaching his own peak soon after. 

Afterwards, Will was too exhausted to do anything but wipe himself off and collapse back onto the bunk. Feeling Jack's body against his as he let sleep overtake him was oddly pleasant. 

**********

A pounding at the door startled Will awake. 

"Cap'n! Land!" 

_Captain? What...oh._ The captain was sitting up in the bunk next to him, both of them stark naked. 

"Coming! Just a minute..." Jack scrambled out of bed and fumbled around in the dark. "Now where's my bloody shirt," he muttered. 

"Jack, how am I going to get out of here without them knowing..." 

"Look, mate, if they don't know already they'd 've figured it out soon enough anyway. There're no secrets on a ship." 

Jack had found his shirt and was busy tugging on his boots. "Hurry up and get dressed. All hands on deck when in sight of land, you know." Then he was gone, grabbing his hat off the table as he went. 

_No secrets on a ship._ What had he expected, anyway? That he could carry on these trysts with Jack and not have a soul on board find out about it? He wondered how many of them already knew. _Christ, what if Elizabeth knows?_

When Will emerged on deck he could see the outline of Port Royal on the horizon in the first light of dawn. Jack sauntered up to him. 

"Gather your things, boy, and tell Elizabeth to do the same. We'll send a boat in with you soon as she's close enough. Can't risk getting too comfy in this particular harbor - they've still got a noose in there with my name on it." 

So this was it, then - he was going back. _Of course you're going back, idiot! What else did you think you'd do?_ Will nodded at Jack and headed for Elizabeth's cabin. 

As the boat with Will, Elizabeth and Gibbs was being lowered over the side, Jack leaned over the railing. 

"Elizabeth - no hard feelings, luv. You'd 've made a good pirate. And Will - " For a moment, Jack looked at a loss. "uh, same to you." And then he pulled his head back and was gone. 

_Did he look a bit wistful, or was I imagining things?_ Will decided it was probably the latter. Anyway, it didn't matter any more, what Jack may or may not have looked like. He was leaving the ship, and leaving Jack, and leaving temptation, for good. 

Gibbs rowed them to shore, and Will helped Elizabeth onto the dock as silently as possible. They didn't speak while creeping through the brightening streets to the governor's mansion, not wanting to attract any attention to the fact that a notorious pirate ship was anchored just outside the harbor. But when they arrived at the mansion, they had no choice but to knock. A very astonished butler summoned Governor Swann, who appeared in his nightclothes and clasped Elizabeth to him gratefully. 

"I feared you were dead!" he exclaimed. "Don't ever run off like that again!" He released her suddenly, looking suspicious. "How did you get here? The pirates - are they here?" 

"Shh!" said Elizabeth. "If you love me, father, please don't sound the alarm. Let them go." 

"You keep strange company, my dear... but I'll indulge you one more time, now that you're home safe." He looked up at Will as if noticing him for the first time. "And Mr. Turner... do I have you to thank for escorting my daughter safely home?" 

"Of course, father, as usual," said Elizabeth, not looking at Will. 

"Then I am in your debt," the governor said. "Can I offer you a room?" he asked, looking somewhat like a boy being reminded of his manners. "It's so late, you must be exhausted... We will talk in the morning." 

"Thank you, but no," said Will. The thought of sleeping in this house seemed to him far more stifling than a tiny bunk on Jack's ship. "I'd prefer to go home - it's not far." 

"All right, my boy, but come back tomorrow." 

Will nodded, and with a small squeeze of Elizabeth's hand, he left them. 

The streets between the mansion and the blacksmith's shop, which he had walked so many times they had become comfortable and familiar, now appeared ominous to Will as he made his way quietly in the early morning light. passed the square where Jack had nearly hung, but for his own rash actions. _Did I know why I was doing it, then? Why I was risking my life for him? Do I know, now?_ The deed that he had once held as a proud moment of nobility had become debased in light of what happened after. 

That same square had also nearly witnessed his wedding to Elizabeth. If Beckett had but waited a day, perhaps he would never have had a moment of doubt about their future. Perhaps this whole mess would have become a tale of adventure told to their children by the fire. But why, then, was some voice in his head saying, _then it would have been too late_? 

Will thought that sleep would mean oblivion, that his humble bed in the smithy would transport him back to a time before Jack, but the notorious Captain Sparrow refused to stay out of his dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

That Norrington was once again a Commodore, Will could tell from the first moment he walked into the blacksmith's shop. It was partly the clothes, the official uniform sharp and pressed with all the proper insignia. But more than that, it was his bearing - when Will had last seen him, he'd been slinking, beaten yet crafty. Now he stood tall, walked with authority, with only a hint of fear at the corners of his eyes that revealed he knew what it was like to lose everything. That Will should be the cause of some of that fear didn't occur to him at first, but it quickly became clear that Norrington wanted something from him. 

"I'm glad to see that you have returned home safely, Mr. Turner," he said, his voice indicating that he was, in fact, not at all glad. "I have just been to see Miss Swann, and she assures me that her own safe return may be credited in large part to you." 

"Elizabeth gives me too much credit," Will said warily. 

"As she is your fiancée, it is certainly understandable." Norrington looked as if something had just occurred to him. "I presume that your engagement is unchanged?" 

"You presume correctly." Will may have had doubts, but Norrington was the last man to whom he would reveal them. 

"Then I also presume that you would not wish for any further impediments to your happy nuptials, or anything that might endanger your ability to provide for your bride. Such as it is." Norrington glanced at the smith's donkey with disdain. 

Will bristled, and Norrington seemed to notice his anger. "No offense intended, of course. Miss Swann has made her choice, and no one doubts your character. Your loyalty is admirable, even to those who have not particularly indicated that they deserve it." 

Knowing that Norrington's insult to Jack was at least partially justified only served to incense Will further. "I can think of several reasons to doubt _your_ character." 

If Norrington was offended by this statement, he didn't show it. "I imagine you can," he said, closing the distance between himself and Will and lowering his voice. "Which brings me to the reason for my visit. Seeing as my ambitions and your misplaced loyalty have brought us both afoul of some of the finer points of the law, perhaps it would be best for both of us if we struck up an accord." 

_Ah, so that's it._ "I take it that certain higher authorities haven't learned of your involvement with Beckett," Will said. "I heard that he's in jail in England until they figure out how to try him for reckless use of a sea monster." 

Norrington nodded, lips pressed tightly together. 

"Well," said Will, feeling a surge of authority, "seeing as I've been officially pardoned, I fail to see how you're able to threaten me." 

Norrington looked grim. "Pardons have been known to be revoked. And even if you yourself are immune, your dear friend 'Captain' Sparrow is most certainly not beyond the reach of the law. You risked your life and your freedom for him at least once already, and more than that if the rumors I've heard are true. Perhaps you spent a few too many nights alone with him on board my ship?" 

Before he realized what he was doing, Will had taken up the sword he'd been shaping and was holding the blade dangerously close to Norrington's neck. "I think you should watch what you say!" he shouted. "Get out!" 

Seeing the shocked expression on Norrington's face, Will realized too late that the man had been joking, trying to goad him with false insults, never realizing how close he came to the truth. Now, however, Norrington was clearly beginning to understand the source of Will's violent reaction. Will lowered his blade, his arm trembling slightly. 

"So it's like that, is it? Does Miss Swann know?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about." Will knew his denial was futile, but he'd be a fool not to try it anyway. 

Norrington smiled, but there was no warmth to it. "You know, it's terribly ironic. When I proposed to Elizabeth, it was because I'd become fond of her, and she was beautiful, and the governor's daughter, and would have made me a suitable wife. It wasn't until after she'd rejected me that I really fell in love with her. And until this moment I was content knowing that she'd chosen passion over station. But now I find out that she won't even be getting a real man." 

Will's head was spinning with shame and fury. "How dare you suggest..." 

"Save it, Mr. Turner. This is the accord I propose to you: you forget that a certain errant body part was ever in my possession, and I forget that we ever had this conversation. But I'm warning you: if you fail to keep the bargain, then not only will a certain pirate find every naval force at my disposal bent on his extermination, but the future Mrs. Turner will learn the full extent of your betrayal. Good day." 

As Norrington turned to leave, Will heard Jack's voice in his head. _'Don't do anything stupid. Like that.'_

**********

Will was hammering furiously at a nascent sword when his ears detected a feminine cough amidst the din. He looked up to find Elizabeth standing in the door of his shop, staring at him. 

"You didn't come to see me yesterday." Her voice was more sad than accusing. 

"I've been busy. The orders are piled up - Brown drinks more than he works." It was a pathetic excuse, and Will felt as he said it that 'I didn't want to see you' might actually have been kinder. 

Elizabeth clearly agreed. "Don't treat me this way, Will. I've been honest with you, and even if you don't love me anymore the least you could do is be honest with me." 

"I'm sorry." 

"I'm sorry too, Will. You haven't been the same since... since all this happened. I don't know if it's your father, or Jack, or... or me. Because you don't tell me anything anymore." 

"I..." Will didn't know what to say to her. 

"Is it about what I did to Jack? I understand if you don't feel the same way about me now, but could you - could you try to forgive me? I know you risked your life for him and I did the opposite, but I was trying to save _you_ , Will. You've always been the noble one, anyway." 

"Elizabeth, it's not like that." 

"What is it like, then? Do you know that I'm always wondering when you'll decide that I'm not good enough? Your father was a pirate, but all you wanted was an honest living, while I always fantasized about running off with the pirates. You always called me 'Miss Swann' and treated me like a lady when I didn't want you to. You always insisted that it wasn't right to do... _those things_ before we were married, even though I tried to seduce you. And I'd always been told it was the woman who was supposed to resist. There must be something wrong with me, Will. I can see why you're having second thoughts." 

Will couldn't stand Elizabeth's blaming herself any longer. As much as the truth might hurt her, it had to be better than this. 

"Elizabeth, there's nothing wrong with you. There's something wrong with me." 

She wiped a tear off her cheek. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean that normal people want to do those things when they love each other. There's nothing wrong with your wanting to." 

"But you don't want to?" 

"It's not that I don't want to, it just never seemed... urgent. Like it must have to you. So I didn't understand why we shouldn't wait." 

"And you understand now?" 

"Yes, but not in the way you think. I mean, I know what it's like to want... to want to do those things, but... but not the way I'm supposed to." 

Elizabeth sat down on a rickety chair, looking confused and a little cross. "Will, I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Of course you don't. I don't understand it either. I didn't want to tell you, but what you said about not having secrets... and I can't stand that you think it's your fault. Because it's not." 

He turned around, jabbing the cooling sword into the ground. It was easier to say if he didn't have to look at her. "You're not the only one who's kissed Jack." 

"What?" 

Will turned back to see Elizabeth looking as horrified as if he'd just struck her. 

"But Will, he's a man!" 

Will laughed bitterly. "I know that. I told you there's something wrong with me. And that's not all I did with him." 

"I don't think I want to hear any more." Elizabeth was gripping the edge of the chair like it was the railing in a wave-tossed ship and looking a bit seasick. 

"Elizabeth, I still love you." He did. "I want to make you happy." He definitely wanted that as well. "I don't know if I can, but I want to try." Because what else was there for him? "But you have to decide if you want to let me, now that you know." 

"I don't know, Will. I need to think about it, all right?" 

Will nodded. She had given him the same courtesy. 

Elizabeth stood. "I should go. My father is expecting me." 

As she left, Will heard Jack's voice in his head again - something about the opportune moment. He told the voice to shut up. 

**********

Norrington looked surprised to see Will in his office, and not a little nervous. "What can I do for you, Mr. Turner?" 

_Might as well get right to the point._ "Do you still love Elizabeth?" 

"Why are you asking me that?" Norrington's eyes looked like they couldn't decide whether to be happy or afraid. 

"Just answer the question. Do you love her? Would you do anything to make her happy?" 

"Yes. I think I already made that clear when I refrained from hanging you upon your return." 

_Not exactly nice, but he has a point._ "Even though she's a bit of a pirate?" 

"No one is perfect, Mr. Turner. Least of all me. While I would hope that she has no plans to dress up in men's clothes and run off on a pirate ship in the future, even I will admit that there were extenuating circumstances. And it is much more interesting to love an actual person rather than an idea. I did not appreciate that point until recently. For Elizabeth's sake, I hope you appreciate it as well." 

Will was profoundly relieved. His feeling that Norrington had recently learned how to be both a commodore and a good man seemed to be correct, which made what he was about to say considerably easier. 

"You might consider courting Elizabeth again. She may be more receptive this time." 

Norrington looked surprised, but not shocked. "Does this mean that you've broken off your engagement?" 

"It does." Admitting this to Norrington made it seem more permanent. Not even the governor knew as yet. 

"May I ask why?" 

"You know why." Will forced himself to look Norrington in the eye. 

"Ah. I prefer to think you did it for her sake and not your own. Does she know?" 

"Yes. But I would remind you that our accord still holds with regards to anyone else." Even these vague references made Will's stomach clench, but he supposed there was no help for it. 

"If my courting of Miss Swann is successful," Norrington pointed out with some relish, "then damaging my reputation would only serve to hurt her." 

"Then I guess it's in our best interests to keep each other's secrets." Will held out his hand, and Norrington's grip was firm but not unkind.


	6. Chapter 6

As Will lit the lamp just inside the blacksmith's shop, he sensed that something was out of place. What it was, he wasn't immediately sure, but he grabbed the nearest sword out of its rack and advanced slowly. 

Another blade extended from the shadows and ran along the edge of Will's sword. "Reminds me of the first time we met." 

"Jack?" 

Will stepped back, still holding his blade up, testing. Jack stepped into the light. He looked just as when Will had last seen him, several months prior, down to the trinkets in his hair. He was smiling in that slightly unsettling way of his. 

"What do you want?" Will hadn't been sure, before, if he should expect never to see Jack again or if he should expect him to turn up at an odd moment. It had been just long enough that he'd been leaning toward the former. 

"What makes you think I want something?" Jack stepped toward Will, pointing his sword close enough to Will's neck that he parried on instinct. 

"You always want something." Will disengaged and feinted, trying to fight down any hopes about what Jack wanted. 

"I could say the same to you," said Jack, blocking the thrust while stepping sideways. "'Nice to see you again Jack, now hand over that compass for my darling Elizabeth.' How is Mrs. Turner these days? Got her own pirate ship yet?" 

"She's Mrs. Norrington as of a few hours ago." Will stepped to counter Jack, still meeting his blade. "I've just come from the wedding." 

"Is she now? That's interesting." Jack forced another exchange of blows. "Seeing as I have conclusive proof that you're _not_ a eunuch, what caused her change of heart, I wonder?" 

Will lunged at Jack, forcing a rapid exchange of thrust and parry. It ended with Jack backed up against a post, Will's face mere inches from his with their blades crossed between them. "You still haven't told me why you're here," Will hissed. 

"Maybe I just missed your swordplay." Jack shoved Will backward and resumed fencing. "Still practicing three hours a day?" 

"Four." It was an exaggeration, but not much of one. 

In the next round Will succeeded in knocking Jack's sword out of his hand, but before he could bring his blade back up, Jack lunged forward, grabbed the front of Will's shirt, and kissed him hard. Will kissed back roughly for a moment before pushing Jack away. "You cheated." 

"Pirate." 

Will dropped his sword and pulled Jack to him again, devouring Jack's mouth so ferociously that he tasted the coppery tang of blood. He fumbled with Jack's belt, then his sash, then his jacket, vest, and shirt. "You wear too many bloody clothes," Will muttered as the last of them dropped to the floor, leaving Jack in only breeches and boots. 

"And you don't? Go on, I don't want to be accused of ruining your Sunday best." 

Fighting with the interminable buttons, Will was tempted to ruin them himself, and he suspected that Jack was making excuses to watch him strip. The thought was strangely exhilarating. He carefully draped his jacket and shirt over the cleanest piece of furniture nearby, just to be a tease. It must have worked, as Jack grabbed him roughly by the front of his breeches and pulled their bodies together. Will could feel Jack's bare chest hot against his skin and Jack's erection grinding against his own through the cloth. 

Will's eyes darted around the dimly lit room for a suitable surface. He backed Jack up toward the workbench, then spun him around and bent him over it, dipping his fingers in the oil of an unlit lamp on the way. With his other hand he yanked down Jack's breeches and then his own. 

As his slicked cock was poised to enter Jack, Will hesitated, thinking that maybe he was going too fast, but Jack said, "Do it!" in a voice tinged with desperation, so he did. Jack's fingers clutched at the edge of the workbench and Will's closed around his cock, and Jack pushed back onto Will like he'd been craving it for months. 

_I hope he has,_ thought Will, remembering the many, many times since he'd returned to Port Royal that he'd gotten hard while imagining doing exactly this. He hadn't paid that portion of his anatomy so much attention since he was thirteen. But right now he didn't have to do that, because Jack was here and Will was inside him and making him come all over the floor of the blacksmith's shop. 

Will leaned on the workbench to steady himself after releasing Jack, who had slumped to the ground and was sprawled against a leg of the table, breeches tangled in his boots and bare ass in the dirt. 

"Do not laugh," said Jack with mock seriousness in response to Will's obvious mirth. "I can assure you, Mr. Turner, that you look just as ridiculous as I." 

Will supposed he did, at that. He attempted to disengage his breeches from around his ankles, and almost fell over while trying to unbuckle his shoes. 

"And what's more," said Jack, looking as smug as was possible given his circumstances, "you will never be able to use this workbench again without thinking about what we just did on it." 

Will supposed he wouldn't. He hoped his productivity wouldn't suffer too much. 

Depositing the remnants of his clothes with their brethren, Will set about stoking the fire and putting a bucket of water on to heat, all while stark naked and barefoot. _No sense getting my best clothes dirty._ Jack didn't look like he was capable of getting up just yet, but his eyes followed Will's every move, and Will felt deliciously immodest knowing that Jack was watching him. 

When the water was hot, Will lugged the bucket off the stove and tossed Jack a bar of soap. "Here. Wash." 

Jack held the soap out between finger and thumb, looking at it like it was a particularly slimy slug. "Wash?" 

"I only let clean pirates sleep in my bed." 

Jack scrambled up and headed for the water bucket. 

**********

"I can see why you didn't mind sleeping on the ship," announced Jack. "This bed is bloody awful." 

"It's not quite as bad when it's just me," said Will, squirming in an attempt to align his body less unpleasantly with the sagging mattress. 

"Ow. Stop kicking me." 

"Sorry." 

It occurred to Will that if things had been different, if _he_ had been different, he might be spending his first night as Elizabeth's husband instead of sleeping in a too-small, falling-apart bed with a pirate. That fact bothered him considerably less than he supposed it should have. "I hope he's good to her." 

"Who?" 

"Norrington." 

"Regrets?" 

"No, actually." Will sat up in bed, unable to keep still. "You were right about me. I couldn't have made her happy." 

Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw the outline of Jack's hand moving hesitantly toward his back, then retreating. After a couple of iterations, Jack finally reached up and unfastened the tie holding Will's hair, letting it fall around his shoulders. 

"Well," said Jack, "it would be a right shame for you not to be keeping anybody happy. You've got so much potential." 

"Just potential?" Will swung one leg over Jack, straddling him and causing the bed to wobble treacherously. He ground his hips against Jack's suggestively, and felt the desired response as Jack gasped. 

There was something that Will had been wanting to do for a long time. All the nights he'd spent alone in this bed during the past few months, he'd wished he had done it when he had the chance, so he could remember instead of just imagining. 

Will slithered down Jack's body, pressing his mouth against Jack's chest as he went. When he reached his destination, he paused, unsure of exactly how to go about it. Glancing up, he saw that Jack was raised on his elbows, watching him and breathing hard, and wished for more light so he could see the expression on Jack's face. 

_Well, it can't be that hard, can it?_ He had a pretty good idea of what felt good from the couple of times Jack had done it to him. 

He ran his tongue along the length. Jack gasped. He licked lightly across the tip. Jack writhed. He took the head into his mouth and sucked. Jack fell back on the bed and moaned. 

Will wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but the taste was not at all unpleasant - in fact, thinking about it made his cock grow even harder. He tried to take more of Jack into his mouth, but found that he couldn't without discomfort and wrapped his hand around the base instead, as Jack had done. 

He couldn't decide which was better - the feel of having Jack's cock in his mouth or the knowledge that he was making Jack mad with pleasure. One of Jack's hands was clutching at the sheets, while the other was tangled in Will's hair, and the pressure of Jack's fingers on his head felt like Jack was having to restrain himself from shoving Will's mouth farther onto his cock. 

Jack bucked his hips and Will had to drape an arm across him, holding him down to avoid being choked, and then Jack was yelling, "Oh fuck, Will!" as his release flooded Will's mouth. Will sputtered and tried to swallow, and then Jack was dragging him up the length of his body and capturing his mouth in a deep kiss. 

_He must be able to taste it on me._ His pride at making Jack Sparrow scream his name quickly gave way to abject lust - Will couldn't remember ever being more aroused than he was at this moment, not even when he'd been inside Jack for the first time. He thrust blindly against Jack, trying to convey how badly he needed for Jack to touch him. 

Jack flipped them over and pushed Will down onto the bed, which was creaking as if on the verge of collapse. Jack leaned over him, not moving, and Will was becoming desperate. _Does he want me to ask for it?_ "Jack, I need..." 

Jack laughed quietly. "I know just what you need. That was admirable for your first time, but pay attention, savvy?" 

Will tried to pay attention, but by the time Jack had licked him everywhere but where he needed it most, his mind had turned to jelly. When Jack finally, _finally_ put his mouth on Will's cock, Will rode the first wave of pleasure so intense it made him howl and then tried to concentrate. 

_He's moving his head up and down, and oh fuck tongue that's amazing and his hand is so tight jesus and oh yes please more just like that..._

He might have been saying some of this out loud, but he didn't really know anymore, and any hope of recalling the sequence of events was quickly becoming lost. Will merely moaned and writhed and pleaded until he was coming hard in Jack's mouth. 

After that he remembered very little, just Jack kissing him and the discovery that tasting himself in Jack's mouth was almost as good as Jack in his mouth, and Jack collapsing next to him with an arm thrown across his chest. Will slept better than he had in months. 

**********

The next morning, Jack was gone. Will thought at first that he might be lurking somewhere in the shop, but he wasn't, and his effects were missing as well. The intensity of his disappointment hit Will hard - did he really think that Jack had come back for more than a quick tumble? The man was a pirate, after all. 

But when Will returned to his room, he saw something that he'd missed when he'd first awoken - a note, left on the pillow where Jack's head had been a few hours before. Jack's script was florid, the penmanship correct, but something was just a bit off about it. The note had only three lines. The first read 'The Sturdy Mast'; the second, 'Tortuga', with a flourish on the 'T' that extended halfway down the page. The last line bore a date, not quite two weeks hence. Will traced the letters with his fingers and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it's not clear, this is intended to be a happy ending: Will meets Jack in the pub, and they sail off together. Originally I had plans for a sequel, but I never managed to finish it.


End file.
